When I returned to the waiting area, Darren was leaning on Michelle’s station and they seemed to be getting along swell. Well good, I thought, because the lawyers proved useless. Darren and Michelle exchanged cards and we split. ‘Did you learn anything from the lawyers?’ Darren asked as we approached the hatchback.
‘Not really, though they seem to think Elaine took off with some guy, too. But they have no idea who. Or if they do, they aren’t sharing,’ I said.
‘Do you think they know more than they were letting on?’
‘Yes, of course. Still, though, I’m not sure they know the identity of the other man. They said they didn’t and I sort of believe them.’
‘What else did they say?’
‘Not much. One of them, Adamson, the skeletal one, he doesn’t really speak at all.’
‘Huh.’
‘So you seemed to be hitting it off with Michelle.’
‘Yeah. She might meet us for a drink later. I asked her some questions but she was reluctant to answer in the office, so I thought maybe we’d talk to her in a more hospitable environment over drinks.’
‘Good thinking, Darren.’
‘She did, however, tell me that Bouvert and Adamson are going for drinks in about an hour at the bar at l’Hôtel Athènes — le Charon.’
‘Do you know who they’re meeting?’
‘A client. I don’t know who. Michelle just said a client. She wouldn’t tell me who. Said she wasn’t allowed, though she let it slip that they had this rendezvous.’
‘Okay, well, we’ll have to trail them.’
‘They know what you look like.’
‘Yes.’
‘But they haven’t seen me.’
‘Right.’
‘So I propose I sit near them. I’m a good eavesdropper.’
‘I wish I had my recording device.’
‘I’ve got a notebook in my knapsack. I’ll just take notes, you know, discreetly,’ said Darren.
‘Don’t sit too close.’
‘I won’t. They won’t spot me. I’ll just have a drink and pretend I’m reading and taking notes. It’s a hotel. They’ll just think I’m a guest — someone’s kid — if they think of me at all. I have great hearing. I can be discreet.’
21
Hôtel Athènes — le Charon. Tailing Bouvert and Adamson. Sitting near them. One’s fat, one’s thin. I’m assuming the fat one’s Bouvert and conversely the thin one’s Adamson. They’ve just sat down. The third man hasn’t shown up yet. A waiter approaches them and takes their orders.
— Bonsoir, messieurs.
— Good evening.
— Would you care for some drinks?
— Yes, I’ll have a vodka martini — on the rocks, in a rocks glass.
— Olives or a twist?
— Olives.
— Very good. And for you, sir?
— A CC and ginger.
— Merci beaucoup. I’ll be right back with your drinks.
They sit silently eating nuts, esp. the fat one, Bouvert, the one who ordered the martini. They don’t say a single word the whole time the waiter’s off getting their drinks — and the waiter takes a while. The waiter returns and sets the drinks down on coasters in front of them, and more nuts …
— Voilà, messieurs.
Bouvert lifts his martini and says …
— Cheers …
— Cheers.
And they clink glasses. Then, Adamson, the skinny one, says …
— If he takes any longer I say we leave. We don’t need him at all. He was incidental and ultimately inconsequential. Might be better to sever ties now.
— We’ll hear him out. No need making enemies for no good reason.
— Even if he were our enemy — it wouldn’t matter.
— Don’t get so distressed. Really, we’ll have a drink and hear him out and we won’t deal with him for a long time to come.
— I can’t believe he’s late. The nerve of this fucking guy.
A few more minutes pass and they barely utter a word. They both, however, frequently glance at their respective wristwatches. Adamson seems pissed. Bouvert seems calm, drinking and snacking, unflappable. (I’m, by the way, drinking a beer, but it’s in a glass and probably a rip-off. I hope to be reimbursed for incidentals!!)
They stir. A man in a dark blue suit with a raincoat folded over his arm approaches their table.
— Sorry I’m late.
— Why was that …?
— Detective.
— What?
— Why were you late?
— Al, we don’t need to worry about that.
— No it’s okay.
— So …
— A case, of course.
— And …
— Some junky OD’ed.
— Why does that concern you?
— The boyfriend lived. They want to pin it on him.
— And the Andrews case?
— Yes.
— Any developments?
— Since she’s gone AWOL?
— Yes.
— No, not really. It’s quiet. I believe she’s successfully made her getaway.
— Right.
— So what did you want to see us about?
— Well, business.
— Okay.
— I figure I’m owed a little more than I’ve received.
— Oh.
— Yeah, and –
— Let me stop you right there –
— Al, please let the detective continue. Go ahead …
— Well, I believe I’ve been helpful and feel I should be properly remunerated. Simple.
— It’s not simple.
— I think Al means that we’ve already shown our appreciation; our mutual friend has shown appreciation for all your help.
— I don’t want to know anything, still.
— And you won’t. You don’t.
— Without knowing, why do you think you deserve more?
— I know enough.
— I suppose you do.
— Yes.
— You realize you could be implicated?
— Yes. But no one will –
— No, you’d just be disposed –
— Al, please!
— Listen, I’m a police detective with Robbery-Homicide — you can’t make those sorts of threats to me. Do you understand?
— You’re not above anything, O’Meara.
— Do you understand? Do not threaten me. I can make your lives hell.
— He’s sorry, detective. We’ve been under a lot of pressure.
— Tell me about it.
The waiter approaches the table and Bouvert and Adamson order another round and O’Meara orders a double Jameson on the rocks.
— Ballpark?
— We’re not negotiating.
— I am, Al. Ballpark — what are we talking?
— A hundred.
— No way!
— Al.
— It’s not that much.
— No?
— Considering …
— Considering what?
— How’s about twenty. We could do that ASAP.
— It’s a lot less.
— Yes, but as we said, we’ve shown our appreciation. This is extra, a bonus.
— Right, but I’m asking for a hundred.
— If it were up to me you’d get nothing.
— You’ll get something, detective.
— Well, it’s low.
— But you’ve already gotten an awful lot.
— Okay. Eighty.
— Eighty! You ungrateful motherfucker –
— Al, please.
— Eighty.
— Sixty, today, but then you don’t ask for anything more — ever — and we forget we ever knew each other.
— That seems harsh.
— Those are the terms. It’s the right thing to do.
— I can live with that.
The waiter returns with their fresh drinks and they say nothing while he places them on the table and collects the finished drinks.